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<title>A Completely Accurate Portrayal Of Elias Bouchard's Rise To Power by black__beak</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28865001">A Completely Accurate Portrayal Of Elias Bouchard's Rise To Power</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/black__beak/pseuds/black__beak'>black__beak</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Stoner Elias Bouchard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:41:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>705</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28865001</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/black__beak/pseuds/black__beak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Elias Bouchard.</p>
<p>You hear there's some jobs going in London.</p>
<p>You've not really any skills beyond throwing money around, but London is the only place in the country where that's really all they look for on a CV.</p>
<p>How would you like a job at the Magnus Institute?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Completely Accurate Portrayal Of Elias Bouchard's Rise To Power</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Your name is Elias Bouchard.</p>
<p>It's a lovely, warm summer's day outside.</p>
<p>You've just graduated from Oxford.</p>
<p>You "studied" PPE.</p>
<p>(And you got a 3rd.)</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>You hear there's some jobs going in London.</p>
<p>You hear this from your father, who is offering those jobs in London. And also knows of a cushy research job at someplace called the Magnus Institute.</p>
<p>You decide to move down to London.</p>
<p>You've lived in Oxford your whole life.</p>
<p>Truly, it's a struggle. The thought of leaving this place makes you very sad.</p>
<p>It makes you very sad, indeed.</p>
<p>However will you find a new weed supplier?</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>You've not really any skills beyond throwing money around, but London is the only place in the country where that's really all they look for on a CV.</p>
<p>However, you're not sure if dealers in London appreciate that sort of thing. Here in Oxford, they do. They rather do appreciate that sort of thing.</p>
<p>They'll even give you change from a £50 note.</p>
<p>(Last December, they ran a raffle for 3 months' supply and a bottle of champagne.)</p>
<p>(You didn't win that one.)</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Your name is Elias Bouchard.</p>
<p>You've just started work at the Magnus Institute.</p>
<p>Thankfully, there's lots of places to hide your pot at work.</p>
<p>Place is fucking <span class="u">huge</span>.</p>
<p>Old as shit, too.</p>
<p>You're paying through the nose with this new dealer, though. Bloody London prices.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>The head of the Institute, James Wright, seems not to give a shit about your pothead antics.</p>
<p>The head Archivist, however, does, but in an effort to keep the balance of the universe, you don't really give a shit yourself.</p>
<p>Who's that man at the door to your office?</p>
<p>"Elias. Please follow me into the tunnels, Elias."</p>
<p>What?</p>
<p>"I have to tell you that the head of the Institute has just died. Tragic, really. Let's have a little chat."</p>
<p>Oh. Oh, fuck.</p>
<p>(You're too blazed to do anything but follow.)</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Your name is Elias Bouchard.</p>
<p>You are now the Head of the Magnus Institute.</p>
<p>You're sat on the floor of your office, drinking Buckfast, trying to get drunk, but it's like trying to squeeze into some bell-bottom jeans you shrank in the bath.</p>
<p>(Jeggings haven't been invented yet. This is the 1970s.)</p>
<p>Peter Lukas knocks on your door. That's his name. Tunnel man.</p>
<p>"Elias," he calls.</p>
<p>What little alcohol permeating your system takes its cue and disappears.</p>
<p>You groan. You still don't remember why you're Head of the Institute, or how you came to be in the position.</p>
<p>Peter also takes his cue, and comes in.</p>
<p>Good God, he's sexy. Like a rideable armchair of particularly sturdy make. He's like. Maybe 60. You are 25.</p>
<p>Whatever he wants, he can have it.</p>
<p>You've said this out loud, now. Whatever you want, you can <em><span class="u">have</span></em> it.</p>
<p>"You look tired. Let me help you with that."</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Your name is Elias Bouchard. You're 25, or at least, claiming to be, because <em>most</em> of you is, and you've essentially just had your brains blown the fuck out by the armchair, Peter Lukas himself.</p>
<p>It didn't particularly help with being tired. You can't sleep now. Why is there a bed here? In fact, why is there a bed anywhere in the Archives, at all?</p>
<p>You get up to get dressed. You're going back to work.</p>
<p>Even if you're not sure what your "work" is.</p>
<p>"Elias," says Peter.</p>
<p>Christ. He should be stopped.</p>
<p>He really should.</p>
<p>"You should be stopped," you say.</p>
<p>He looks at you.</p>
<p>"Then stop me," he says.</p>
<p>And the rest of your day is cancelled.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Your name is Elias Bouchard. And you can't get high anymore.</p>
<p>These weed brownies taste *awful*.</p>
<p>Why did you put so much baking soda in? Eurgh.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Your name is Elias Bouchard.</p>
<p>You're Head of the Magnus Institute, you're essentially Jonah Magnus in a different meat prison, and you're in your mid-sixties.</p>
<p>You're looking for a new Archivist. Last one caused too much faff.</p>
<p>"Oh, uh, Elias. I'm, so, terribly sorry," says Jonathan Sims, who has just dropped a stack of files on your foot. You didn't flinch.</p>
<p><em>Little shit,</em> you think.</p>
<p>
  <em>Let's make him suffer.</em>
</p>
<p>"Jon?"</p>
<p>"Hm?", he answers.</p>
<p>"Let's have a little chat," you say.</p>
<p>You smile.</p>
<p>You've found your Archivist.</p>
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